


measly offerings

by maddy_does (favefangirl)



Series: carry on countdown 2020 [23]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, POV Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Post-Book 1: Carry On, Pre-Book 2: Wayward Son, Romantic Gestures, There is no fluff, i mean its canon compliant, not really fluff though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:07:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28133664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/favefangirl/pseuds/maddy_does
Summary: Baz resorts to desperate measures in an attempt to help Simon through his rut.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: carry on countdown 2020 [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026733
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2020





	measly offerings

**Author's Note:**

> Carry On Countdown Day 23, DEC 17: Cooking/Baking

It's a complete last resort - though that probably goes without saying. Baz in a kitchen? Unlikely. He's not a chef and he never has been. But desperate times and all that. If you'd told him a year ago that he'd be in a kitchen in a run-down flat listening to Penelope Bunce grumbling on about the academic worthlessness of the 20th Century Cultural Turn, trying to bake gingerbread biscuits because his boyfriend hasn't gotten off the sofa in a week, he'd have had you institutionalised, and if you'd mentioned that said boyfriend was _Simon Snow_ , he'd have spelled you into the next century. It's a farce, honestly, and a testament to just how worried he is about Simon. 

Simon's moods (or, mood, as there was little variety these days) hadn't seemed like much cause for concern at first. He'd killed his mentor, lost his magic, and found out he'd been inadvertently killing the magickal world since he was eleven, all in the span of one particularly rough afternoon. Anyone would be entitled to a bit of a mope after all that. Baz has hardly going to begrudge him a bit of self-pity, everything considered.

Now though, a year on from the carnage, and with Simon getting far worse before he's showing any sign of getting better, it seems like the time to worry has very much arrived. The first clue that things were about to take a steep nose-dive downhill was when Simon decided to stop seeing his therapist. Neither Baz nor Penny had felt particularly comfortable with this decision, but what were they going to do? Tie him to a chair and force him to Skype her? They'd hoped he'd change his mind, but he still hasn't. 

They've tried everything they can think of, from suggesting hobbies or work, to a full on intervention, but none of it has helped. If he's honest, Baz isn't holding his breath about the biscuits being the solution to all their problems, but he's hoping that the gesture if nothing else will remind Simon that it's not all doom and gloom. And maybe part of him, deep down, is hoping that's it's enough to show Simon that this life they have now (the flat, Bunce's bi-weekly essay crisis, _them_ ) could be enough for him, if he just let it. The symbolism better be good, because Alastair Crowley, the biscuits really aren't. 

Baz doesn't know much about baking, that's for sure, but he knows gingerbread isn't meant to be black. Once they've cooled, he tries to take a bite out of one, and the crack when he does is enough to have Bunce's head shooting up to throw him a confused glance. They don't taste ... terrible, if crispy, floury, with no trace of ginger is how you particularly like your sweet treats. Baz pulls out the icing kit and hopes that if he slaps enough on to cover the burnt bits, they might at least look edible. 

He concentrates so hard on the icing, that his tongue begins to poke its way out of the side of his mouth, and more than once he has to press his lips together to stop himself. Finally though, he has a batch of gingerbread biscuits decorated with vaguely Christmassy symbols like a tree, some holly, and a snowman. Baz makes no pretence of being an artist, but they actually look alright, if he does say so himself.

He offers once to Bunce whose face can't conceal her horror at the prospect, even as she politely says that she's going to be eating dinner soon and doesn't want to spoil her appetite. Despite her face, it's still a surprisingly diplomatic rejection from someone whose normally incredibly brash about these things. He puts the rest of the biscuits on a plate and heads into the living room, closing the kitchen door behind him.

"Simon," he says, uncharacteristically soft. Simon doesn't even lift his head. "I got you something," Baz tries again, walking further into the room. This time, he does get Simon's attention, enough that Simon even manages to sit up. Baz sits in front of him on the coffee table, and offers him the plate. "They're not very good. I don't think I followed the recipe properly. Stupid Americans and their cups." Baz shakes his head.

Simon takes the one that has Baz's wonky drawing of mistletoe on it, then takes a tentative bite. It has the same awful crunch that the one Baz had tried did, and Baz understands now why Bunce had flinched. Simon chews on it, sounding less like he's eating gingerbread, and more like he's eating croutons, and Baz holds his breath quite without realising it.

Finally, Simons manages, "S'good," before taking another bite.

Baz smiles and puts the plate down on the coffee table next to him so that Simon can help himself. Biscuits are perhaps not the most nutritional of foodstuffs, but seeing as though it's the most they've managed to get into him in weeks, he'll take it if Simon even eats half of them. He wants to reach out, but things are awkward there. It feels like being sixteen again, having Simon so close but unable to touch. But the last thing he wants to do is to push Simon, not when he's winning small victories like getting him to eat. Instead he wipes his hands on his jeans, then stands up. As he's walking back to the kitchen, he's surprised when Simon takes his hand. He gives it a squeeze, and Baz waits in hopes that Simon will say something - do something, anything. But Simon just lets go, and reaches for another biscuit.

Baz swallows around the lump in his throat as he heads back into the kitchen. "Fuck," he exclaims as he comes face-to-face with the mess he'd made. Flour covered surfaces, bits of burnt gingerbread stuck to the baking tray, four different mixing bowls, all dirty and balancing precariously in the sink - he hadn't even realised the chaos while he was working.

Bunce laughs, the traitor, grabs her laptop and walks out of the room. "Not my mess."

Baz sighs and tells himself that it's worth it. When it comes to getting Simon through this, anything is worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> is baz ooc? do i care? who can say.
> 
> anyway, if you wanna leave a comment or a kudos they're much appreciated! especially let me know if there's something you think i forgot to tag! 
> 
> i'm taking prompts! if you're interested please drop the prompt in the comments below. if you do send a prompt be prepared for me to take fifty years to fill it because _uni_ , but i promise i'll try! come say hi on tumblr: [@maddy-does](https://maddy-does.tumblr.com/)
> 
> thanks for reading, have a wonderful existence.


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